Hope!
by smashbangfusion
Summary: It's been a year since the destruction of the androids. Rebuilding has been difficult, but it's going. Still, it's hard to say if the world has become any better. While the rich and powerful tighten their grasp on the larger cities, gangs and murderers run rampant in smaller ones. In a world with no friends and no laws, it becomes harder for Videl to remember not to give up hope.
1. Chapter 1

**Hope!**

**Disclaimer: **_The following story and all of the chapters to come are based on the works of Akira Toriyama. The writer makes no claim to any of the concepts, characters, or settings used. Please enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter One**

She could barely see her sleeping child behind the deeply tinted, purple windows of the pod, but she knew that she was protected. It hurt to sit; she winced in pain as the raw, tender wound on her abdomen burned and pulsed while she slowly slid her back inch by inch down the side of the pod. A relieved sigh escaped her lips when she touched down, finally able to relax her sore muscles. Her automatic rifle, supported over her shoulder with a sling, now rested on her lap.

'_Hello, Pain? It's me – Videl. Can you do me a favor? Can you just go away? Because you've been all over my body for the past few hours and I am seriously sick of it.' _Videl let out a groan as the lesions on her waist began to flare once more. '_I mean, buy a girl dinner first or something.' _As the aches began to subside, she whispered, "Thanks…"

Videl. She had a last name, but that sort of thing stopped mattering a long time ago. 29-years-old. 30 by the time September rolled around. It was August now. Age 786. Of course, the only reason she ever kept track of the months and years was because of her sleeping bundle of joy in the weird pod. Videl reached into the pocket on her denim jacket, producing from it a miniature projector. Upon activating the machine, a holographic globe appeared before her.

"We're a little ways north of West City, Pan," she said quietly, despite knowing her daughter most likely could not hear her. Even so, it was a comforting reminder that she wasn't alone. "Nearest populated area is…Ginger Town." Videl sighed. _'Low priority reconstruction…' _she thought. _'Doubt it'll be completely safe there…' _

Videl growled as her body complained of its injury once more. _'But I need help,' _she conceded. Her first aid could only keep her going for so long. She pulled from the opposite breast pocket of her jacket a small case. The Capsule Corporation's logo, faded and partially scratched away, decorated the major face of the little box.

Inside the Cap-Case were a lot of empty spaces. There was but one Dyno-Cap remaining in her months of travel. _Model 772-T_, it read. A donkey. More specifically, a hover-donkey. Nothing more than an unmanned cargo mule used to move heavy loads from place to place. Would have been useful if it was still programmable and automated, but that wasn't the case. The guiding chips were dead long before the Watchers got a hold of an abandoned store of the stuff. They used them as gurneys and hover-barrows, led from place to place with ropes and a degree of physical labor – useless to Videl at the moment.

The pod was something. She didn't know what it was or its place of origin, but it was sturdy and weapons didn't seem to work near it. She squeezed the trigger of the rifle in her hands, only to hear empty clicks in return. She and, more importantly, her daughter, were safe. _'Strange,' _she thought, her mind focusing on the alien ball. _'It looked like something that's just been sitting there for more than twenty years, and still not like anything I've ever seen before…'_

"Twenty years…Wow," she murmured to herself. "You know, Pan? That was when the world ended. I was only ten years old at the time." Really, it was nineteen years and some months. Her father had just won the Grand Martial Arts Tournament, becoming the most famous person alive and the strongest-known fighter on the planet. _'When was that?' _she asked herself. _'April, I think?…Age 767?'_

_The androids came just a few weeks after Mark "Hercule" Satan won it all. He was all the news would ever talk about. The publicity and the tournament winnings earned him the money to finally start a martial arts school. Her father had only just bought the new gym. New students were lined up outside the door when…_

Videl didn't want to think about it. She tried to think of a happier time. Anything to distract her from her barely dressed wound, or the fact that she brought her daughter to the desert lands where night was as cold as those few days they spent in the Northern Mountains. Oddly enough, she _wasn't_ cold. Perhaps it was another effect of the weird pod? It was so alien…so mysterious…Her mind soon began to drift into another memory.

_He stood in the rubble when it was all over. Sunset. A pink and purple sky colored the world behind him. His arm was broken, his clothes were torn, and his hair was no longer the shining gold it was just a minute ago. Videl pushed away some of the debris between them, holding her free hand up to her mouth to amplify her calls._

"_Hey, you!" she shouted, running straight towards him as soon as the path was clear. He turned to look at her, and she saw that the man fighting the androids couldn't have been any older than she was. Like her, he seemed to be no more than a teenager._

_She completely froze at the sight of him and she had no idea why. He looked thoughtfully toward her for a single moment before slowly ascending to the empty skies and flying west – straight into that beautiful sunset._

The memory wasn't sickening or horrifying as her father's death, but it troubled her nonetheless. Her meetings with the boy didn't stop there. They brought her the greatest joy she had felt in years. He made her feel like there was something waiting for them beyond the Onslaught, and she loved him for it. Still, Videl refused to keep thinking about it. She knew the outcome of those memories. Instead, she tried to focus on her destination.

West City. A lot of people in the world have been calling it 'Utopia.' It makes a certain sense, considering its reconstruction has been much faster and less hectic than the reconstruction of other major cities. It's also the safest place on the entire planet, considering Bulma Brief – also known as the Savior of the Earth – lives there. It was thanks to her genius that the Onslaught ended a little more than a year ago.

Other cities weren't so fortunate to have the once beautiful, now aging genius to oversee the reconstruction when the Onslaught ended. The former District Capitals – East City, West, North, and South – were the priority areas for rebuilding. It wasn't a decision made by any governments or committees – those were more inconsequential than ever – and the smaller towns ended up neglected for it. Orange Star City was one of them. It wasn't long before her hometown became ground-zero for the power struggle between various gangs and outlaw organizations. That was one of the reasons she had to leave.

The roar of motor engines and wild hollering could be heard faintly in the distance. _'Sounds too chaotic to be mercenaries…' _she noted, trying to assess the threat. _'Gangs, then…Damn.' _The sounds were gradually becoming clearer. They were coming close. Videl clutched at her side, her injury starting to act up as she scrambled to her feet.

"Damn it. Come on out…" she muttered weakly. Videl swallowed whatever moisture was in her mouth and gritted her teeth. "I'll take you all on."

The lights of their wheeled motorcycles and customized trucks blinded her so that she could only see in her immediate area. A black silhouette stepped forward. She brought her right hand up to shield her vision while her left hand gingerly hovered over her wound.

"Look what we have here…" It was a male speaking. His voice was cold and clear. "With that jacket and that bandana…Brothers and sisters, I think we have ourselves a Watcher!"

The gang's response was a cacophonous symphony of laughter, whooping, and cackling. The speaker, whom Videl assumed to be the gang leader, stepped forward more, allowing Videl a clearer image of his body. Another member followed from behind. Despite the blindingly bright lights of their vehicles, Videl could soon make out the two figures approaching her.

The speaker was a young man with jet black hair and an orange bandana fashioned as a scarf. His face was dirty, his hair looked as if it were blow-dried with a grenade, and his scarf featured ugly bloodstains that he most likely treated as trophies. The other figure turned out to be a young woman with bleach blonde hair, similarly ragged and dirty looking, and sporting a denim jacket with cutoff sleeves.

'_Terrors…Shit.'_

"Our new recruits here would love to earn their stripes, so to speak, so if you could just let us have our fun and kill you, we'll be out of your hair in no time," the blonde stated with a cruel smile playing at her lips. The young woman brushed a lock of hair behind her head, revealing her ears and the macabre accessories that hung from them – teeth. Her own collection of trophies from her victims, no doubt.

"Oh, I don't know if we should kill her so soon, sister," the dark-haired one interjected. "I can imagine a number of ways to have _fun _with this one…"

It wasn't the first time Videl had ever faced Terrors. However, this _was _the first time she had to face them while surrounded and badly injured. _'At least Pan is safe…' _she thought, clenching her teeth and getting ready to throw a punch.

"You have a sick mind, brother…I like it…Although, she is quite old…" the blonde commented before noticing the large ball behind Videl. "And what's this? Hmm?" She took a step forward, only for Videl to obstruct her path with an outstretched arm.

"Stay away," ordered Videl, her eyes unwavering as she shot a piercing glare to the Terror leaders. The blonde stood above Videl by a few inches. She looked down upon her with that same playful smirk, keeping completely still for a moment. She couldn't have been more than 20 years old, Videl observed. In gleeful defiance, the younger woman took a step forward despite Videl. In response, Videl used her outstretched arm to shove the blonde back toward her "brother."

"I said stay away!" she shouted, glaring daggers at the gang siblings. It didn't matter that her gaze didn't affect them; she just wanted to make sure they received the message.

"Well, well. I wonder what's gotten you so heated?" asked the male Terror. He turned to the blonde. "Sister?"

She laughed. "I didn't see a thing. Maybe an ugly little monkey. Hard to tell with the purple glass and old lady in the way."

"Well, whatever is in there, the ball itself looks like something expensive." He turned to Videl, his lips curling into a confident and vicious grin. "Why don't we cut a deal? You can have your monkey. All you have to do is give us the ball and be our…_toy_."

"And the alternative is, of course, death," added the blonde, her tone eerily nonchalant and dismissive. "We kill you, your monkey, and we take the ball anyway. Your choice."

Again, the illuminated desert plain was filled with the cacophonous hollering and cheering of the members of the Terrors beyond the artificial lights, sounding their collective approval for either option.

'_Of all the times for a gun not to work…' _Videl thought wryly. Terrors don't use firearms. She would have been able to scare them off with the repeating sound of gunfire, but that was unfortunately not one of her current options. She had to think quickly. Ways out? There were none. Use reason? Videl was never a great communicator. Her mind repeated the same five-letter word over and over as if it were her mantra. However, the word was no key to inner calm. Rather, it was the only option she had.

'_Fight.'_

Power surged throughout her body as she rammed her clenched fist into the male leader. She felt the satisfying impact from his face reverberate in her balled hand in that single instance of contact before he was sent sprawling across the dirt and sand, desperate to find his footing. She lowered herself into her fighting stance, but found something in it wrong.

Videl couldn't pose her body in a proper form, her injury limiting her movements far more than the level to which she was accustomed. _'Come on, Adrenaline…!' _she urged with both silence and desperation. _'Shouldn't you be kicking in right about now?'_

Videl swung her right leg around to strike the blonde from the side, but the electrical shock-like pain of her wound prevented her from rotating her hips fully into the kick. Although the female leader was staggered by the attack, she quickly recovered and stood herself straight, walking toward the already fatigued Videl.

The blonde gang leader looked upon Videl with cruel eyes before shoving her knee into the raven-haired woman's stomach. Videl doubled over, feeling almost paralyzed from the impact. The male leader finally stood up and regained his balance, only now holding his hand over the bloody mess that took the place of his face. With a brisk pace, he advanced toward Videl and jammed his foot hard into the woman's now undressed wound.

"You bitch! That was my fucking face!"

Her eyes fought away the tears welling up with a hardened leer. Videl looked up to him, trying her best to sustain her false courage. His nose was completely broken; it looked like it was crushed flat against his face with the force of a small claw hammer. Her lips curled their way to a smile before she spat blood at the Terrors' feet.

"It's quite the improvement."

That final comment was all she could manage before Videl blacked out completely.

* * *

_Six years ago…_

"…_explosions in the direction of Pepper Town can only lead us to assume that another attack is taking place. If you or your loved ones live near Pepper Town, you must evacuate immediately. I repeat, a series of explosions in the direction of Pepper Town can only lead us to assume – "_

"WILL SOMEONE SHUT THAT DAMN THING OFF?!"

"Okay, Videl? I need you to relax. Do you remember the breathing exercises?" asked an older man in a medical mask, peering over at Videl from behind her legs. "_Hee-hee-hoo…_Okay? _Hee-hee-hoooo…!_"

She reached over to her side and grasped at whatever substantially heavy object she could find and hurled it at the radio.

"…_This is Watchers West. A series of explosions in the direction of Pepper Town – "_

The emergency broadcast was cut short with a loud crash as the fake plant and flowerpot that Videl threw slammed into the radio. The radio's casing split open as it hit the ground, startling the other two people in the room. Dr. Derry, the man beyond Videl's legs overseeing the birth, remained unfazed.

"Videl, calm down," said Derry in a pacifying tone. "I promise that this will all be over soon."

Her cries echoed throughout the rundown office.

…

* * *

…

"Doctor, it…has a tail…" the female assistant commented, shocked to see the furry brown appendage wriggling and curling around the body of the newborn.

"…She. She's a girl," Derry corrected his young doctor-in-training. He handed the child to her mother, who was now resting quietly in her bed, softly and slowly panting from the exhaustion. "I don't know if we should remove the tail…I've never seen anything quite like this."

"If you think it'll be harmful to the baby…" Videl started, staring contemplatively at the infant in her arms. It was so small. So fragile.

"_Your _baby," the doctor supplied. Videl responded only with silence.

"…My baby…" she continued, softly, "If you think you shouldn't remove the tail, then…it's fine…"

"I'm sorry; if my little office were better equipped, maybe we could have run tests…"

"It's _fine_, doctor."

The assistants left the doctor and his patient alone. The room was completely and deafeningly quiet. Videl couldn't keep her eyes off of the baby. She held her finger to its tiny hands and felt the touch of her child as the baby attempted to enclose its own small fingers around Videl's long, slender ones.

"…You should be happy," the doctor said quietly. "She's the first child born in Orange Star in years. Even in this day and age, life still finds a way to go on."

"If you can call it a life…" she replied, almost bitterly. The doctor didn't have a response. Instead, he walked to the far end of the room, picked up to busted radio, and placed it back on its stool. In its upright position, its lights began to weakly flicker for a moment before slowly dying down once more. He stared at Videl and her newborn for a moment before turning around and leaving them to rest.

Videl's eyes wandered about the little office. Everything was confined in this one room – the operating table and the patient bed, the doctor's desk, a power generator, and a large construction lamp that provided the only light, night or day. Then there was, of course, the radio. It faced her from where it sat, and her eyes stopped wandering when her gaze landed upon it. She felt like she had been staring at it for hours.

Her baby's grip on her finger pulled her from her trance. She looked at her, loosely swaddled in its blanket. The unnamed infant weakly wriggled on her mother's lap, her tail practically dancing with each little movement.

"So…you have a tail," said Videl, using her free hand to lightly hold the furry appendage. "How'd you get this thing anyway? Your dad? He _is_ a weirdo. But I…don't want to talk about that. Hell, maybe you're just special and we live in strange times. Who knows?

"You're going to need a name, aren't you?" she asked her in a rather lukewarm tone. "Well, how do you like Videl?" No response. "No? Then…Gohan? God, no. It's been months since I've thought about those days and already you've got me spending every minute talking about him."

Videl quietly sat with her child in her lap, allowing the baby to play with her fingers. She had no idea what it was she was supposed to feel as a mother. Happiness? Why? Because she brought a child into the world? How happy could she be when she brought a child into a world where people never knew if tomorrow could be their last day alive? So what was it, then? Grief? Or perhaps she should just feel relief that the damned birth is over and done. To be truly honest, that little girl was making her feel a little bit of everything in the most confusing way.

"Your name is Pan," she informed the newly christened child. "Pan. Everything."

Pan managed a quiet, but almost delighted squeal in response.

Just beyond the singular moment of maternal bliss, the seemingly busted radio began to flicker to life once more. Between periods of static, the muffled voices of the Watchers West Broadcast projected quietly from the little box.

"…_We're currently on the search…urvivors of the at…ack on Pepper Town…at ground zero of the...argest explosion…Our search has yielde…no results so fa…scraps of orange fabric…no burns, but soaked in blood. I'm afraid that there are no survivors…"_

The radio died shortly after the broadcast ended.

* * *

**The Writer's Block:**

_Hello, readers! First of all, I would like to thank you for taking time out of your day to read _Hope! _This idea has been cooking in my head for a couple of months, just waiting for me to have the free time to see it fully fleshed out. I'm very happy with how this is turning out, and I'm excited for everything that will happen on this journey._

_Unlike _Demon Hunt_, another story of mine you may or may not have read, this story will not be quite so AU. In fact, one of my goals for this is for any number of readers (though not necessarily all of them, since that is simply foolish) to believe that what happens here _could _actually happen in _Dragon Ball Z _canon. After all, this is a story set in the Prime/Future/Mirai Timeline – a universe within _DBZ _mostly left unexplored. There's a lot of room for unhinged creativity, but I'm doing what I can to integrate what we already know about _Dragon Ball Z _in creative and original ways that remain true to the universe._

_I've made one reference to another writer's work, and that is the fantastic _Onslaught _by __**ShadowMajin**__. He's a great writer that is skilled in both comedy and drama. _Onslaught _is a powerful action-drama that details Gohan's years fighting on his own against #17 and #18. It also pairs him and Videl together in a creative and _mostly_ believable way. I call the period from Age 767 – 785 the "Onslaught" because it's just such an appropriate name! If you haven't read _Onslaught_ yet, do it!_

_My goal for this first chapter was: __**Introduce readers to the world, setting, and characters without revealing too much or outright spelling it out. **__I feel that this can be a weakness of mine, especially in certain chapters of _Demon Hunt_, and I don't want my habit of giving explanations to hinder the level of engagement readers have in the story. Please let me know how I did! Bonus points if you can point out any parallels and character connections that I tried to hint at without giving too much away!_

_For those concerned with the update schedule, here is what I am shooting for: Tuesdays will see a new chapter of _Hope! _(but the chapter may be uploaded on Wednesday on occasions where I am late), and Fridays will see a new chapter of _Demon Hunt _(but the chapter may be uploaded on Saturday on occasions where I am late). _Demon Hunt_, I think, gained so much popularity not only because of writing quality, but the sheer volume and frequency of updates when it started. Unfortunately, I don't think I can handle writing a chapter every other day for this story and still do _Demon Hunt _by the end of the week, so we'll just have to see how this schedule goes._

_Thank you all so very much for reading. Please feel free to leave me a review!_

_~smashbangfusion_


	2. Chapter 2

**Hope!**

**Chapter Two**

"_Good morning, listeners! It's April 10__th__, Age 786 and the time is 8-o'clock, which means that this is your daily news! Three weeks ago, West City completed its reconstruction on the Capsule Corporation Manufacturing Facilities after more than 14 months of hard work. Bulma Brief's decision to focus on rebuilding her family's business over helping to rebuild homes was initially met with considerable controversy, but West City's favorite daughter only had this to say:_

'_The faster this company is rebuilt, the faster we can focus on fixing this planet.'_

"_While her words were met with skepticism, recent statistics have shown that, since Capsule Corp.'s resurrection, West City has seen increases in employment, availability of capsule-homes, and construction-oriented capsule-drones, as well as dramatic boosts to both city morale and reconstruction progress. World-wide effects remain to be seen, but I'd say that we're off to a great start! In other news…"_

Pan's interest in the affairs of the world was interrupted when she heard the apartment's door creak open. Excitedly, she jumped from her little chair and ran to see her mother return home. It still felt strange to think of it like that. This was their third home in as many months. She and her mother have lived practically all over Orange Star City at that point, Pan believed.

Of all the homes, she liked this one the least. It was small, dark, and it smelled something like old socks. There were only two rooms – the bedroom, and the living room. The kitchen was just an old refrigerator and a microwave oven in the corner of the living room, and the bathroom was just a toilet and a sink. Still, she had her mom. That was enough. On the bright side, they _were _moving again very soon. Her tail swayed from side to side as she stood in the narrow hall in front of the doorway, obstructing her mother's path into the apartment.

"Mommy! Mommy!" she cried happily, waving her short arms up to her mother. Videl responded by dropping to one knee and placing a motherly kiss upon the young girl's forehead.

"Panny, did you pack your things like I asked?" questioned Videl, still kneeling so as to speak directly to her daughter's face. The child nodded, beaming sweetly at her mother. Videl smiled in turn before standing up. "Good girl. Now let's see if we can get you something to eat, huh?"

As she passed through the living room, Videl shut off the radio. "Why do you listen to this, Pan?" she asked her daughter. "It's not even East District radio. That broadcast is almost three hours behind us."

Pan shrugged her small shoulders as she sat herself on the living room carpet. "I like to hear about West City, mommy," she answered plainly. "Did you know that Bulma Brief finished recon – um…"

"Recon_struction_?" Videl supplied, opening the old refrigerator for whatever was left of their bread. Her daughter nodded.

"Recon…struction," she sounded out, her face slightly scrunching up as she focused on pronouncing the word correctly, "…reconstruction."

"Yeah, on that Capsule Corp. plant," Videl replied. She sighed softly as she produced from the fridge the last of their perishable foods: a head of lettuce and leftover bread. Packed away in a small bag sitting at the opposite corner of the living room were their canned goods – beans, soups, that sort of thing. _'Should be enough to last us until we find a better place in Orange Star…' _she thought, taking the bread and lettuce. Food in hand, she joined Pan on the living room carpet. "You told me about that last week. What about it?"

"Everyone seems happy that it's done," Pan said, as if it were the most appropriate summary of what she heard on the radio. Videl chuckled as though her daughter told her a little joke.

"That's good for them, Pan," Videl said in response, her tone slightly dismissive. She tore a piece of bread from the larger share and handed it to Pan. "I'm glad they're doing what they can to make their lives better." Videl couldn't help but say that with a smirk, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah…" Pan agreed, naively unaware of her mother's sarcasm. The little girl took a bite of the piece of bread in her hand, chewing it thoughtfully. "I want to live there someday," she declared after a hearty swallow.

Hearing that gave Videl pause. In many ways, West City would clearly be the best place for Pan to be raised. West City already had its primary education reestablished, steady jobs were easily available, and, most importantly, it was protected. In this world, it was as close to perfect as anyone could get. In comparison, Orange Star was…

The blaring cry of sirens sounded outside. The loud tone pierced her ears and ripped her from her thoughts. Her response was instinctual; Videl raced to the windows and shut the blinds, leaving them in considerable darkness.

'_Another raid…' _she thought, her face hardening with a furrowed brow. Videl gathered her and Pan's belongings into the center of the living room. They had nothing more than a backpack with a few changes of clothes, whatever money she had saved, and a small sack of canned foods. She frowned. _'I thought we'd have more time!'_

Videl turned to her daughter. "Pan," she said, kneeling down so that they were at eye-level, "There's going to be trouble. Stay in the bedroom and keep quiet, okay?" When Pan nodded in understanding of her mother's wishes, Videl stood up and posted herself at the edge of the narrow hallway. She watched the little girl quickly run into the bedroom, her tail being the last thing she saw before the door closed.

Videl knew how to throw a punch. She knew how to kick. But how to fight? That was a little different. She never learned everything her father knew; she never had the chance. There was one thing she learned over the years, and that was how to _survive_. It didn't matter what was out there in the streets, or how many she had to face because nothing would get past her so long as she had Pan to protect. Muffled sounds, husky and brutish, made it through the walls from the outside.

'_Voices…'_ she noted, hugging the corner where the entry hall met the living room. It was a blind spot for anyone intruding upon the apartment. That there was barely any light coming in and that the narrow hall couldn't allow more than one person in at a time provided Videl the tactical advantage she needed – one she was fully willing to exploit.

"Alright," she heard from outside the door. "You three will check out these second floor places here. The rest of us will head upstairs. Anybody tries to fight you, you kill 'em. Got it?"

Vocal confirmation was followed with the pounding of footsteps, no doubt more people heading to the upper apartments. As the sound of the march died down, the sound of hard fists banging on doors grew.

'_Is it stupid to hope that they would just leave?' _Videl asked herself, still pressing her back to the wall and peering over the corner. She cringed as the door to her apartment rattled violently in its hinges as the raiders hammered their fists upon it, announcing their presence. _'Of course it is, Videl. If there's nothing to kill, there's always something to take.'_

Three knocks, followed by a pause. Videl kept her head back, concealing herself in the blind spot as much as possible. The door was weak. It didn't even have a deadbolt lock. She peered over once her shoulder once more. There was a weak clang and thudding sound – more than likely the result of someone breaking off the doorknob from the outside. Videl leaned back into the wall. She listened as the men outside fiddled with the mechanisms before the other half of the doorknob inside the apartment fell to the carpeted floor.

The door creaked as it slowly swung open. Videl adjusted her position, taking a few quiet steps back. It wasn't long before someone came into view. Male. Medium build. Armor pieces cannibalized from what looked like hockey pads. A red circle was painted onto his armor padding.

Videl charged, ramming into his body with all of her weight. Unprepared, the man fell under her, his head crashing into the nearby window. Videl quickly dropped to her knee, placing it right next to the man's chest. She pulled her clenched right hand back as she held the man against the floor with her left. Videl fired three punches in rapid succession across his jaw, leaving his mouth bloodied and him unconscious.

Videl had to act fast. The other two were already rushing into the apartment hallway, their weapons ready. Noticing the assault rifle by the raider she knocked out, Videl picked up a weapon of her own and aimed it at the two men. She smirked as they froze in place at the edge of the hallway. Videl motioned for them to step into the living room.

"Drop your weapons," she ordered, still resting upon her knee. They obeyed, placing their held weapons – an aluminum baseball bat and a steel pipe – on the floor. Videl waited silently for a few seconds before taking the rifle out of its safe mode and aiming once again at the two raiders. "Guns, too. You Red Son guys always carry something. C'mon."

They looked hesitantly at one another before the man on Videl's left unstrapped a pistol from his pants while the one on her right revealed a pistol of his own on his chest. Both of them tossed their pistols toward Videl's feet, satisfying her demand.

They weren't men, upon closer inspection. Rather, they were two young boys. Late teens, perhaps younger. Their eyes were wide – a sign of fear – but the deep bags just below those eyes betrayed the tiredness they truly felt. It was likely they had no other choice but to join the Red Sons to protect their own lives in some way. Videl sympathized, but she couldn't allow herself to care about what will happen to them at the end of the day.

"Walk out of this apartment," she said slowly and clearly, still pointing her gun at them. "Run out of this building." Once again, they responded with hesitant glances at each other and confused looks on their faces. Videl heard gunshots outside. _'Damn. If they're already firing their weapons then…'_

Videl was running out of time. It wouldn't be too long before the raid evolved into chaos in the streets. She pointed the gun up to the ceiling and fired rapid bursts of potshots. "Do it!" she barked, refocusing her aim on the Red Sons.

They clumsily clambered to their feet, leaving behind their weapons and their unconscious comrade. Videl slung the rifle's sling over her shoulder, turning the weapon's safety feature back on, and gripped the weapon firmly with her right hand. She walked briskly toward the apartment's bedroom and used her free left hand to knock on the door.

"Pan!" she called. "We're leaving. Come and get your things."

The door opened gradually, cautiously. "Pan, don't worry. Everything's going to be alright," Videl soothed. "We just have to get moving."

Her daughter opened the door enough so that she could step into the living room. Videl allowed herself a relieved sigh seeing her daughter was alright. She bent to one knee and held out her left hand for Pan to hold.

"Mommy!" Pan screamed suddenly, pointing behind Videl.

Videl spun around quickly, only to stare straight down the barrel of one of the discarded pistols. Holding the firearm was none other than the man she had previously thought to be incapacitated. The darkness of the room made it difficult to see, but Videl was sure it was him. She scooted back, dropping from her knees to a backwards, up-facing crawl. Her heart stopped. Her eyes shut tight.

_Click._

Nothing. Her eyes opened wide. Without thinking, Videl flipped the gun's safety to its automatic fire and squeezed the trigger. A wild stream of lead was unleashed, fired from the assault rifle without aim. Videl screamed in anger and frustration as bullets pierced the raider's armor and the apartment's walls, windows, and ceiling indiscriminately. Bullets struck him in his sides and shoulders, sending him staggering backwards toward the windows, his arms flailing about uselessly. Videl ceased fire, made a mad dash toward the man, and thrust her left foot into his chest.

The Red Son's back hit the wall hard before he dropped face-first into the carpet with a satisfying thud. Videl was left panting hard, sweat dripping from her face. She returned the rifle to its safety mode and let it hang lazily from her shoulder.

"Mommy…?"

She looked back towards her daughter. Four words repeated in her head, over and over again.

'_Pan could have died.'_

The thought made her face turn to stone. "Pan," she said, almost coldly, "get your things. We're leaving."

Videl walked toward the center of the room and picked up the food sack. There was plenty of space in it remaining – another reminder of the living conditions in Orange Star City. Silently, Videl dragged the bag around the room and collected what the raiders dropped – the weapons. The aluminum bat, the steel pipe, the discarded pistol – it all went into the bag. Videl continued to drag it toward the Red Son's body.

'_Still alive…barely,' _she observed, holding her fingertips to the man's exposed neck.

Videl pried the second pistol from his finger tips and dropped it into the sack. She brought the carrying strap up to her free shoulder as she stood. Videl looked down upon the unmoving body of the Red Son. She was hesitant to move. Not because she was afraid of the man waking up and attacking again; there was no chance of that so soon. Rather, she was afraid of what she might do.

Could she consciously take another life?

A gentle, but firm tug on the bottom of her shirt pulled her back into the moment. Her daughter stared up at her with her dark eyes.

"Mommy," she said. "Let's go."

Videl nodded slowly. "Okay."

She took her daughter's hand in her own and led her through that narrow hallway for the last time.

* * *

The prairie land west of Orange Star City was originally a planned suburban expansion before the Onslaught. Perhaps a city of its own, as Red Sun City once was. When the androids attacked, any plans for Blue Comet City was abandoned. All that remained was a faded signpost that gave the area its name.

A majority of the Watchers pulled out of Orange Star as each neighborhood was lost to the gang war. They used the Blue Comet sign to establish an outpost for people to gather, rest, and recover from whatever it was that drove them from their homes. Shanty homes could be seen littering the area, spread unevenly across the prairie. Several stands formed together in the center of the shantytown in a large, square formation. Ragged stools lined its outer perimeter. The Blue Comet Trading Post.

Videl had heard about this place through the grapevine back when she was still living in the city. Old Watcher friends with whom she used to keep in touch told her where the Watchers set up. It's how she knew the area was safe enough to stop for a while before she and Pan left Orange Star for good. Videl approached the trading post, Pan following closely behind.

"Well, well! If it isn't Miss Videl?" greeted the man behind the trading post stand. He was a thin man. His black hair and stubble was kept closely shaved. Like Videl, he had his own denim jacket and solid orange bandana scarf. "I feel like I haven't seen you in years!"

Videl was wordless as she dropped her bags on the ground by the counter. She bent over to pick up Pan and set her up on the stool. The girl swung her short legs back and forth in alternation. "Yeah, um…" she started, struggling to remember this familiar stranger's name.

He laughed. "I suppose it really _has _been years, huh? Don't worry about it. It's me; Garnade."

"_So, you're the new kid, huh?" he asked with a handsomely boyish grin. He was the type that seemed like he would always be young at heart, despite being 20 years old. "Don't worry about it. I'll show you the ropes."_

"_I can handle a whole lot more than ropes," replied the 16-year-old confidently. She casually brushed one of her pigtails off of her shoulder. "Trust me – I might be new, but I can take care of myself," she declared with a smirk._

"_I like your attitude, Videl! The name is Garnade. Welcome to the Watchers!"_

He was her trainer when she first volunteered to join the East Watchers almost 14 years ago. What a relief it was to see an old friend – the first friendly face since leaving Orange Star. Videl smiled.

"Garnade. I remember now. It's good to see you again," Videl said. She took a seat next to Pan. "Pan, I'd like you to meet my friend."

"Hello, mister," greeted Pan.

"Hey, there, kid!" He turned to Videl. "So, this is that little girl of yours I heard about. I figured you had a good reason for leaving the Watchers. Is it true she has a tail?"

Pan's tail curled upwards and swayed enough to make its presence known before wrapping around the girl's waist. Garnade stared in shock and awe, his mouth slightly ajar.

"Wow. I really don't know what I'm supposed to say," he finally said. Garnade cleared his throat before turning back to Videl. "So, did you come out here to join with the other Watchers? Help us take back our city?"

"Wait, what do you mean by that?" asked Videl, curious.

"I mean the Watchers are going to fight back," he stated in a low voice. He leaned over the counter, almost whispering, "The Red Sons, the Sharks, all of them – we're going to wipe them out."

"Wipe them out," Videl echoed, unsure of what her old friend was saying. He nodded.

"If we just drive them away, they'll come back. We need to crush them completely so that no gang will ever take our homes away from us. And the Watchers won't fight alone. Anyone who can handle a weapon is welcome to join us."

"Gar, I know how you feel, but you're talking about war," Videl responded. "You're talking about endangering the lives of everyone here."

"What other option do we have?" he asked, his voice rising. "These people have lost everything. Their belongings, their homes, their…their loved ones…" Garnade slapped his palms against the counter. "Those assholes need to pay!"

"You need to calm down, Gar," Videl said, her brow furrowing.

"Don't tell me to calm down, Videl!" he shouted. Everyone in the shantytown and sitting at the counter seemed to stop what they were doing to watch the scene. "Do you even know what they did? Do you?"

Videl didn't know what to say. Her silence seemed to answer Garnade's question. After what seemed like a lifetime of complete quiet in the shantytown, everyone soon returned to their own business as if Garnade's explosive outburst hadn't happened. He sighed deeply as he leaned over the counter once more.

"They killed Pin…" he confessed in a low whisper, his head dropping so that he faced only the countertop. "They killed him, Videl."

"_Hey, I know you've been eyeing me lately, kid," Garnade said with a playful grin._

_God, how she could stare at that smile for hours. It took her few seconds to realize what he had just said. It took less than that for the color of her face to betray the embarrassment she felt._

"_Shut up!" she said, punching him lightly in the shoulder. "You wish I was eyeing you."_

"_As cute as you are, Videl, I think it's only fair I tell you that I have a boyfriend. Well, fiancé, more like."_

_It took her a few seconds to realize what he had just said._

"_Oh."_

Videl gently rested her hand on his shoulder. She felt him shiver beneath her fingers. "I'm sorry…"

"Look, just tell my why the hell you came out here if you're not going to help," he responded rather coldly, brushing her hand from his shoulder. Garnade wiped his tears away. "What do you want, Videl?"

Videl's brow lowered. She was unsure how to react. "Fine," she answered, her tone slightly bitter. "I'm taking Pan out of here. Going up to East City where it's safer. We need a Cap-Case and a car."

"Alright." Garnade squatted down behind the counter for a few seconds before rising up with a small box and a couple of Dyno-Caps. "You get your car and Cap-Case, but the Watchers are taking your weapons as payment."

Slowly, Videl pulled the rifle strap over her head and firmly placed the weapon on the counter. She glared at the Watcher, never once taking her eyes off of him. She picked up the sack at her feet and dropped it on the counter as well. From it, she produced the aluminum bat, the steel pipe, and the two handguns.

"Are you satisfied?" she asked sarcastically. She opened the Cap-Case and inserted the two Dyno-Caps into the empty spaces. Videl closed the case and stored it in her breast pocket. "I hope you enjoy your war. Come on, Pan."

Videl slung the sack over her shoulder before helping Pan from off of the stool. The bag was far lighter with only the canned foods inside remaining. Videl held her hand out for her daughter to grab before they turned away from the trading post and headed northeast. However, the sound of a whistle caught Videl's attention before they were more than a few steps away.

Videl turned around, only to find a pistol and holster tossed in her direction. She caught both items by reflex before looking to the person who threw it.

"We used to be friends, a long time ago," Garnade stated simply. "I figure I should at least warn you that Terrors have been seen up north. You might want to be careful about wearing that scarf. You've heard about what they do to Watchers they catch alone, right?"

He didn't smile at her. He didn't even wave or make some other gesture of farewell. Videl strapped the holster to her hips and placed the gun inside.

"We wear these stupid things because we're not afraid, right? Isn't that what you told me?"

"I'm just saying. I gave you that gun because we were friends. I don't owe you anything anymore." He paused for a moment. "…Hey, Videl?"

"Yeah?"

"…It's just…The fighting, surviving…" he lowered his gaze, his tone melancholy, "I thought we'd be done with it by now."

* * *

Videl and Pan kept heading northeast. As soon as they cleared the shantytown, Videl opened up the Cap-Case.

"Alright, Pan. Let's see what we've got…"

_Model 772-T. _A donkey.

_Model 619. _A small, wheeled car. Videl took the 619 from the case and put the case away in her pocket before pressing down the activation button on the Dyno-Cap. Videl tossed it a short distance away, and in a loud _bang_ and a puff of white smoke, the car appeared.

Pan stared in awe at the spectacle. It was the first time she had seen a Dyno-Cap in action. "Wow, mommy! Is that magic?" she asked.

Videl chuckled. "Not magic, Pan. This is what that Capsule Corp. you like to hear about so much makes. Now, come on. We don't have a lot of daylight left and I want to get to East City by tomorrow night at least."

"Yes, mommy."

Videl first opened the passenger door, ushering her daughter inside. After buckling Pan in, Videl moved to the driver's side of the car. She learned to drive during her time with the Watchers. Another one of Garnade's lessons. They had to transport injured people from one city to another when the local clinics and offices couldn't take anyone else. As a result, it wouldn't be her first time driving out to East City.

Still, it _was _her first time driving in more than seven years.

Thankfully her long break hadn't affected her ability to turn on the car's engine or differentiate between the brakes and the accelerator. Videl sighed. It was going to be a long drive.

* * *

**The Writer's Block:**

_I've decided to move my thoughts as a writer on each chapter to my deviantArt journal (the link to which you can find on my profile here on ffnet!). I figured that I should leave the notes here on the bottom for announcements regarding update schedules and possible breaks, as well as shout outs when appropriate._

_So you still get to read about my own thoughts about the story, but now I won't end up breaking up the story flow or deceiving you with word counts that have that 500 word padding._

_Thanks for reading, reviewing, favoriting, or following! Any feedback on this chapter or the story as a whole is very much appreciated!_

_~smashbangfusion_


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